


I was a lonely soul (but that's the old me)

by naimeria



Category: Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: Caryl, Family Feels, Fluff and Angst, I swear it's not really all Carol being angry, It's not really romantic though
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-02-19
Updated: 2013-02-19
Packaged: 2017-11-29 21:08:50
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 587
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/691462
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/naimeria/pseuds/naimeria
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"She hits him, hard. The slap echoes through the cell block, and everyone stops to watch, looking at the pair of them. Even Merle is silent."</p><p>Daryl's back. And when Carol sees him, it's not really joy she feels. Spoilers for <span class="u">Home</span>.</p>
            </blockquote>





	I was a lonely soul (but that's the old me)

**Author's Note:**

> God Home gave me feelings. 
> 
> I don't know if Daryl had time to change his shirt in between his and Merle's fiesta, but, for the sake of this fic, he did not.

  


She hits him, hard. 

The slap echoes through the cell block, and everyone stops to watch, looking at the pair of them. Even Merle is silent. 

Daryl stands there, eyes clouded, as if he’d been expecting it. It only makes Carol angrier. She raises a fist and hit’s Daryl’s chest, then his shoulder, then chest again. Her vision is blurred by either anger or tears, she can’t tell just yet. A calloused hand intercepts the fourth hit, and she looks, shocked to see it’s Rick’s hand holding her back. 

“Carol,” he says, and she glares. 

“Don’t you-” she starts, but he’s already let go, knowing he’s crossed some line. She can feel Axel’s blood on her face, sticky as it merges with her sweat. She takes a shaky breath, then lets her hands fall boneless to her sides. Rick averts his gaze, but Daryl is still watching her, blue eyes hooded, sheltered, shielded. She grits her teeth. 

“You can’t just leave then come back and expect it to be okay,” she says. Her anger dissipating, replaced by an ache in her chest.

“Yeah,” he says after a moment. “Yeah.”

“Don’t you ‘yeah’ me, Daryl Dixon,” she says flatly, the fight leaving as quickly as it came. She knows things change, and him coming back is a miracle in itself, but that betrayal, as senseless as it had been, still sits heavy in her gut. She stares at the floor. “You just leave and come back, as if we’re disposable.”

It’s a mean thing to say, and she knows it. Daryl of all people values family above many things, and she’s never felt disposable around him. But he doesn’t argue. The silence grows, thin and awkward, until he moves, shifting his pack from his back and dropping it on the floor. She sees Glenn, who is standing some ten feet away behind Daryl, raise his eyebrows, but she says nothing. He shifts, then takes off the shirt that’s only half hanging on his shoulders. She hadn’t noticed it was ripped until now. 

She refuses to look anywhere but at his face, and he brings the shirt to his mouth and licks a cleanish patch of it. He then brings it up to her face and starts wiping at the spatter of blood on her cheeks and forehead. She wrinkles her nose and gets an absurd urge to laugh, but refrains, the lump in her belly withering and dying, just like that. Daryl is looking at her intently, not making eye contact, but staring at the blood he’s wiping off of her forehead. He brings the rough cloth to his mouth, licks another patch, and wipes her cheek. 

After another minute he lowers the ripped remains of his shirt. He stares at her, expression still clouded and unreadable. “I’m sorry,” he says after a moment. _I’m sorry I left. I’m sorry about what happened today. I’m sorry I couldn’t keep you safe._

Carol sniffs once, vision surprisingly clear. She grabs the shirt from his hand in a quick swipe. “Oh, give me that,” she says, finding her own clean patch and licking it. “You missed a spot.” She rubs a bloody smear off of his forehead, and his ears grow red. 

The air in the prison warms immediately. Rick chuckles and Beth is smiling at her from behind the bars of her cell. 

“Wait until you see what we did up for Judith,” Carol says. She feels light, comforted, a part of a family again. “I think you’ll approve.”


End file.
